When the number of holy warriors on the central square reached three hundred, the trumpet for departure was blown. With the sound of the horn, the red-clothed grand archbishops from all the great temples appeared silently and bestowed upon them the highest level of divine art.
The holy warriors set off.
Muria saw the scene once again. Those adventurers who came for profit consciously made way, looking at the holy warriors heading towards the fortress with complicated expressions of admiration, worship, guilt, confusion, or perhaps sarcasm.
The magnificent music sounded once more. The minstrels played again to send off the holy knights. This time, however, there seemed to be a highly prestigious person among the minstrels, who organized most of the minstrels in the fortress.
Therefore, this farewell music was more organized and inspiring than the last time. Someone seemed to be doing everything they could for the holy warriors.
